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And the airline (American Airlines​) you’re traveling with for a 40-minute flight as a result of code-sharing charges you $100 for a bag that is supposed to be free…

And the same agent (erroneously) claims she can only check your three bags as far as London on the grounds that your 12-hr and 15-minute layover exceeds the 12-hour limit (which doesn’t actually exist), even though you specifically contacted the airline months ago in order to verify that bags could be checked all the way to Tel Aviv…

And the British Airways​ agent in Miami reassures you that you will receive reimbursement for the baggage charge…

And tells you that you should have been able to check your bags all the way through to Tel Aviv, and while he can’t get them retagged in Miami, lets you know that the bags can be either rechecked or stored at the airport in London…

And when you land nearly one hour late in Heathrow’s Terminal 3 to discover that you can’t recheck the bags until three hours before the flight – which will depart from Terminal 5…

And while you can store all three bags (for a fee) in either terminal, there is no mechanism in place for having the bags transferred between terminals, so you make the decision to store them in Terminal 3, instead of wasting even more precious time…

And he gets teary-eyed and cries a little, from the schedule change as much as the stress…

And you get teary-eyed too, for the same reasons…

And the bus (which runs only once per hour) leaves Heathrow a little late, causing you to miss the free shuttle (which runs every 20 minutes or so) you needed in order to reach the studio on time…

And the friendly woman with whom you chatted while waiting for the bus is traveling to the same station, and saves the day by offering you and your excited-but-weary son a ride to the studio, because she lives right across the street…

And because she believes it’s the right thing to do (especially given our circumstances) and that she would hope that someone would do the same for her…

And as she’s telling you about the area through which you’re driving and sharing interesting stories about what it’s like to live across the street from the still-active Warner Brothers Studio, it starts to rain…

And as you’re getting out of the car and thanking her profusely for her kindness and her stories, she asks if you need an umbrella – just in case…

And as you and your excited 11 year-old-son walk up to the studio ticket window to retrieve your tickets (with plenty of time to spare), you answer his questions about strangers and kindness, and agree with him that some people really are very nice…

And then you enter the magical world of Harry Potter, temporarily banishing from your mind the trials, tribulations and stress of the previous 17 hours and the concerns about three big suitcases sitting somewhere in Terminal 3…